And now there he was, looking down from
his hideout on the big tree at the sacrifice on the big block of stone. He was
excited, he was worried, his heart was racing because his guardian spirit told
him, "That's him, that's the dark-haired boy! Get him! Together you will find
the sun! Fight with Hraesvelgr. Fight with the Mighty Eagle, fight off the
Soul-Eater, fight for your love!"

Aegir scanned the sky for the mighty
Eagle. At that moment just a pair of harriers circled the air. They circled the
place in front of the cave but did not dive for the unconscious youngster on
top of the big boulder. "They are spying! The harriers are spying by order of
the eagle!" Aegir's thoughts run wild! He had to hurry! He had to arrive at
Curlyhead ahead of the mighty eagle.

Suddenly out of the grey sky a big bird
was approaching at the speed of a lightning. It had to be Hraesvelgr, the
Soul-Eater, the mighty eagle seeking for the living and the dead. Aegir took
his spear with the sharp point and began to descend the maple tree. "I have to
be the first! I have to claim Curlyhead! He is mine!" He called out loud to the
Soul-Eater, "Curlyhead is mine, not yours, evil Soul-Eater!" He rushed to the
passage in the earth work around the dwelling. But it was barred with tree
trunks and branches. Aegir was good at climbing but he needed more time than he
expected to reach the top of the barrier. When he set foot on it the big bird
was slowly circling in the sky overhead. Aegir's sharp eyes watched the head of
the big bird with the cold yellow eyes closely. The bird seemed to look at him
too! It still seemed undecided whom to pick first, Aegir on top of the fence or
the lifeless boy on big altar stone.

"Hi you, Hraesvelgr!" Aegir shouted,
"Try to catch me! Can you only deal with helpless prey?" When the bird didn't
change direction and assail him, Aegir began to sneer at him. "Mighty Bird!
Man-Eater! Soul-Eater! Are you afraid of a boy with a spear? If you want it I will
throw away my spear and fight you with my knife, even with my bare hands! Big
Bird! Man-Eater! Chicken-hearted coward!"

While Aegir mocked the bird, he jumped
down to the ground inside the fencing and crossed the free space to the altar
stone in a hurry waving his spear overhead. Again he was held up, this time by
the crude barrier around the altar. The fence of piled up branches and spiny
shrubs was taller than Aegir himself. He tried to tear down the barrier, but
the thorns pricked his hands and tore his shirt. Full of fear he looked around
for the Soul-Eater. He was gone. He couldn't believe it! He scanned the trees
nearby and then ledges in the steep rock face. There he was, sitting on one of
them in his aerie of scrawny twitches. With its big eyes the bird was peering
down at the red-head and to the sacrifice on the boulder that might be dead.
Aegir began throwing stones at the eagle, but the bird was too far away. He
doubled his efforts and finally was able to force his way through the wall of
thorns.

Pushing the last obstacles away, he
climbed on top of the boulder. There he was, his Curlyhead! "Curlyhead,
Curlyhead, my bro, the vision of my dream!" he shouted, "Here I am! I ready to
fight the soul-eater! Don't be afraid!" For the first time Aegir saw Curlyhead from
close up. His dream was about his age, about his height, but very slim almost
skinny. His skin was dark, nearly black, his curly black hair was of
bloodstained. Curlyhead's eyes were closed, but he was still breathing. He was
alive!

Aegir eyes blazed! He drew himself up to
full height, "Hraesvelgr! Hraesvelgr! Soul-Eater! Chicken-hearted Soul-eater!
It's me! It's Aegir, the giant from the north! Curlyhead is mine, he is my
brother! If you want him, you have to fight me!"

~.~.~

Kneeling in front of the limp body and
checking for signs of life, Aegir was roused by big wing flaps and the cracking
of branches overhead. Frightened he turned his head and starred into the yellow
eyes with black pupils of a big bird sitting just above his head in the tree.
The mighty eagle had landed, Hraesvelgr the soul eater had landed. Puffing up
his feathers and splaying out his wings the raptor stared down at the two teens
turning his head with the sharp beak from one side to the other. For a moment
all blood drained out of Aegir's brain and he nearly fainted horrified besides
the lifeless body. But suddenly an unexpected feeling pervaded him. The mighty
eagle didn't look like a soul eating monster. No! Hraesvelgr looked like a wood
grouse hen sheltering her chickens from the attacks of wild beasts.

Aegir looked the mighty bird straight
into the eyes and with renewed strength started to undo the ropes tying up the
hands and feet of the unconscious boy. Having freed him he tried to bring
Curlyhead back to consciousness by breathing into his face, tickling his nose
with a feather and caressing his cheeks. As these efforts didn't work, he began
to shake Curlyhead, at first tenderly then harder. But in vain! He began to rub
his chest and his limbs to stimulate the blood-flow. However, there was no
response. Aegir got more and more worried. In despair he began to shake
Curlyhead vigorously! In vain! Crying with despair he began to pound the chest
of the lifeless boy with both fists. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up Curlyhead, my
bro, my love!" This gross treatment had an unexpected result. Suddenly Curlyhead gasped
for air, his face turned dark and he began burp repeatedly. Then he raised his
head and began to throw up. Groaning with pain he opened his eyes and tried to
sit up.

With a sigh of relief and
full of happiness Aegir embraced Curlyhead "My Curlyhead, my bro, my love" he
repeated over and over again. Then however he had to turn his head because the
sour smell of the vomit made him puke too. But Aegir didn't care about the
mess! Curlyhead lived; the boy of his dream was alive!

Radiating like the sun
itself he raised his arms to heaven and praised the big bird: "Mighty Eagle!
Protector! Guardian! Who ever called you Soul-Eater is wrong! I love you too!"

~.~.~

I would like to express my special
thanks to my friend Anthony for improving my writing.